A Reflection in a Fountain
by Peahopeless
Summary: The first Halloween since Norsefire fell, and Evey spends it by dressing up for a party in the park. Little does she know that she would soon find herself in the middle of an old superstition. This story is from early in the PEAhopeless timeline.


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**Disclaimer:** As always, they're not mine and never will be. These characters and places belong to Alan Moore, DC Comics, Wachowski brothers, and Warner Bros.

**Author's Note:** This is one story of many (over 100) that are written in a timeline format. Not all of these stories have been posted on this site yet (some of them -- rated for adults only -- will never be posted to this site), **but all of my stories -- including those not posted here yet -- have been posted on my aol website.** Just click on my username for more information on how to get to my homepage, or do a search on PEAhopeless V for Vendetta Fan Fiction on the internet.

**Special notes:** This is a Halloween story, taking place Oct 31 in the evening. This is almost one year since the end of the movie. Evey has a speech coming up in four days, on Nov 4 (Eve of the Fifth, first anniversary of the revolution). This is the speech (at the dedication of a memorial), that is referenced in "The One She Chose".

I must be cruel only to be kind.  
-- Shakespeare, Hamlet

Note, because this happens in the Purgatorio section of timeline, where V is hiding his presence from Evey, it is, unfortunately, a difficult story to read. However, there is a Halloween superstition woven into it, which should present an optimistic foretelling of their future. If you're new to this world, and are just now reading through the stories for the first time, I will assure you that they have an entire life ahead of them.

Because this has such melancholy undertones, one of the artist's drew a picture to help lift everyone's spirits, once you finish reading. It is shown at the end of the story on my aol website.

**This story has accompanying artwork.** To view them, visit my aol homepage and click on, "A Reflection in a Fountain".

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**A Reflection in a Fountain**

She shouldn't have come out this evening. She really shouldn't have. ... ... Such was the attitude of a very glum Evey Hammond, sitting on the edge of a fountain in London's famous Hyde Park.

She really should not have come out.

The park was surprisingly bright at the moment, for such late hours. Street lights were lit, as were additional lamps, illuminating large, open areas. People milled and lingered almost everywhere. ... ... A good quarter of the population was on the streets tonight, by some estimates. Because, you see, it wasn't just 'any' evening. It was Halloween.

The holiday had reappeared in full-swing this year. With Norsefire gone, the opportunity to dress in costume had captured England's fancy once again ... and quite thoroughly. Adults and children alike.

Sutler had outlawed such observances, especially anything that even hinted at the older traditions. The argument had been that it was 'against God', though most citizens suspected it was actually a security issue. -- -- Norsefire kept good track of its people and peons. To have had everyone hiding behind a mask, would only have invited trouble.

... ... And to their credit, Norsefire had been right ... as V had proven remarkably well in the end.

So now, with the calendar only five days shy of marking off that first year of liberation, Halloween was back with a vengeance. It was becoming a bit of a 'mini-revolt' against the former attitudes of oppression. A warm-up before the true Nov 5 celebrations would begin.

Public squares, public parks, and all sorts of public places, invited the night's revelers to congregate. ... ... To share their costumes; share their stories; and share new friendships. ... ... And by common agreement, those involved in the new People's Government were encouraged to turn out as well. -- -- Presenting a 'statement of solidarity', had been the logic.

Evey was of course in obedient attendance, mingling in this area of Hyde Park. A number of coworkers and fellow officials were there as well, proving to the public that the 'new' England certainly had a sense of humour.

She was dressed as Belle, from the classic Beauty and the Beast. A French farm maid. -- -- An easy costume to assemble. Comfortable. And warm against the chilly night air.

... ... Cheerful as well. Wasn't Belle supposed to be a cheerful character? ... ... Maybe the illusion could hide the true melancholy that had settled over her.

She'd been okay for most of the day. Halloween was a surreal experience for her ... last seen in her young childhood, she was still trying to remember most of it. The younger generation now, was learning it from books and diving into it full force. She, however, was in the group just old enough to barely remember, and trying to recreate things the way fuzzy memories dictated.

And the costumes in the work office -- -- they had been amusing for the most part. Certainly topic starters, many of them ... temporarily taking her mind off of the upcoming Eve of the Fifth.

... ... That would be her true stumbling block, and she knew it. How in the world was she ever supposed to get through that night? -- -- Let alone do it in public.

But she really had been okay for these last, previous daylight hours. Even as she and her coworkers had congregated for their evening out, her mood had been at least level. ... ... It wasn't until the husband of one of her staff members had arrived wearing a V costume, that her stomach had first begun to twist.

For three hours now, Evey had chatted; smiled; and put on the most award winning facade. People might even have believed she was having a good time, if they didn't look too closely at her face, or listen too long to the dips in her voice.

... ... How in the world was she supposed to look at 'him'. The man she'd loved and the man she'd lost ... standing among a group of fellow government officials. -- -- Laughing heartily ... gesturing with black leather gloves ... the mask grinning forevermore.

It almost made her want to weep.

It had made her weep. ... That moment when he'd leaned toward a group of his wife's acquaintances, and repeated, "Good evening, London".

... ... How in the world was Evey supposed to survive this with a congenial face and level voice?

Maybe it was the universe trying to be kind. Trying to prepare her for the horror that awaited four evenings from now -- when 'he' would be everywhere. Was fate giving her a foretaste of the challenge ahead? Being 'cruel to be kind'? Wasn't that how the quote went?

... ... V would have known.

Either way, she had slowly begun orbiting further and further away from the rest of her group. Avoiding them all, just so she wouldn't have to hear that horribly wrong voice, coming from behind a mask that still floated in her dreams.

The fountain had become her distraction, and she hovered at its edge ... feigning interest in the statue at its center; the autumn flowers that grew in suspended pots; even the flow of water. ... Anything that might innocuously explain why she lingered here.

... ... ... ... And people.

She could see people too, in the flat surface of the water. Especially on the lowest level, where it pooled with a much slower flow.

... ... There 'he' was again. In the reflection.

... ... 'V'. ... ... Or rather, that horribly poor imitation of a man.

He stood behind a group of mutual friends and acquaintances, perhaps looking for an entrance to the conversation.

The vice-secretary of the treasury was there -- -- someone who took the upcoming Eve of the Fifth event quite seriously. Maybe he would give the imposter a few words of disapproval -- for carting the costume out now ... for Halloween. ... ... Evey did find herself hoping.

Really, it didn't matter though, did it? For the duration of this evening, it seemed the imposter would be forever taunting her ... even if it was not purposeful.

Well, at least maybe the reflection he cast was a better alternative. What she saw now, in the water, was only a reflection of a false image. Nothing more. ... ... A firm two steps removed from her coworker's actual partner. ... Or so Evey would tell herself.

... ... Was it safe to touch the reflection of a false image?

Her arm stretched out, and the tip of her pointer finger dabbed lightly into the water. The black cloak -- or rather, its reflection -- shifted away, then wrapped around her fingertip. Almost as if it were real.

And it felt ... ... ... familiar. In an odd sort of way.

It wasn't him ... the one she truly wanted to touch. But it wasn't that annoying man she'd been trying to avoid all evening, either.

... ... It was a memory, more than anything. An image of what was.

... ... Familiar, to have even that little shadow of V. Yet still heart-breaking, and she felt the tears coming. ... ... Another crying jag was on its way.

Whatever the man was saying, she obviously couldn't tell. -- -- Fawkes's grin remained eternal. But his head tilted for a moment, in a way that made her entire body clench. ... The movement resembled so much, that of the original man.

... ... The image in the water was becoming real ... beneath her hands and in her mind ... the image was becoming 'him'.

... ... Right there.

And in the ultimate tragedy, if she would reach out ... ... touch the image as she wanted to touch him ... ... the water would only shimmer, shake, and drown him away. The most she could risk was the lightest, most delicate touch of his edge. Even her tears proved too much when one fell from her chin, landing somewhere on the cloak. It sent so many ripples through the black reflection, that she had to hold her breath while the image stabilized and reappeared.

... ... The man she couldn't have back. Now even her own sorrow was threatening to chase him away.

She could only wait ... watching as the reflection returned. For now ... for the time being ... she would stare at it -- -- and wish.

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He shouldn't have come out this evening. He really shouldn't have. ... ... Such was the attitude of a very glum V, standing by the edge of a small crowd in London's famous Hyde Park.

He had wanted to see her though, and in a way that did not involve hiding around corners or burying himself in darkness. And God help him, he'd wanted her to see him too.

... ... It was a risk he shouldn't be taking. A risk he knew far better than to even entertain. But a risk he just could not resist.

As the anniversary of Parliament's demise drew near, people had begun to bring out their old masks. ... ... Hats, cloaks, and Fawkes visages -- many of which had been personal gifts from him himself.

They had begun appearing in the streets. Especially today, when the occasion was Halloween.

... ... For everyone else, they were the representation of memories. ... Tributes to that night, nearly one year ago, when these citizens had found both their courage and their pride. But it was a new sight for V -- to see others dressed in his image. ... ... The night of Parliament's collapse, had not been so kind to him.

Still ... it provided a form of cover. Something even his ally shadows could not afford him. -- -- The opportunity to be nearer to her. The opportunity to place himself into her immediate world. -- -- The opportunity to even greet her, here and now, as a reflection at the tip of her fingers.

He should not be doing this.

He should not be hovering near Evey as she sat on the fountain's edge.

The goal was to see her. Maybe put himself in her line of sight, even though she would have no idea who she was truly seeing.

... ... But her sorrow ... it was the force that drew him closer. The force that held him there.

How desperately he wanted to comfort her. It pained him so, to see her weeping like this. ... ... Over him. ... Over his image. Even in 'death', he was hurting her.

How badly he wanted to provide the remedy. To show her that he still breathed. To reassure her that he had been guarding her for months ... caring for her, for months. To tell her that if, on some small chance of fate, she still wished to be in his company, he would gladly go to her -- -- even crawl through the bullets a second time, if he had to. It had been his wish for so long ... never abating.

... ... But, alas, it could not be allowed.

... ... Because that would only make matters worse.

In going to her, the shadows would follow. They would engulf her, drawing her into a darkness that she neither needed, nor should be asked to accept. She had the bright, new world now. ... ... Offering his own comfort would provide only a short-lived balm ... until the shadows would begin to creep.

No, it simply could not be allowed. Yet here he stood, unable to retreat ... watching her out of the corner of his eye ... aching as she wept over his waterborne reflection.

He had to leave. Had to force himself away before he did something they would both regret.

... ... He had seen her, and she had seen him. ... Small consolation, and so little to cling to. But it would have to do.

His head ... previously tilted ... now dipped. Sadness returning, eclipsing the anticipation that he had foolishly allowed to cheer his evening. This was the way it must be, and the burden he would carry to spare her from one far worse.

... ... He had to leave.

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The surface of the water finally stilled, and Evey caught herself holding her breath.

It had changed -- the reflection. The man dressed as V must have verbally left the conversation, because the mask had seemed to lose some of its animation. It bowed now ... just a little. Just enough to be noticeable.

... ... Just enough to bring other images to mind. Memories of when her own V ... the real V ... the only V there would ever be ... had done the same.

Her hand reached out again, almost beyond her control -- -- the urge to touch 'him' ... comfort 'him' ... overwhelming. Even if the image would be lost, she had to do this.

Once more, her fingertip broke -- just barely -- the water's surface. 'Touching' the mask.

The reflection shook. The mask seemed to dip even lower. And her tears fell anew.

Why had she come out tonight? Why did she torture herself so, watching something ... 'someone' ... that she could never have back? Regretting past mistakes, past decisions, and past errors in judgment? ... ... Choices that she could never reverse. ... Now all she had left was a reflection in a fountain.

... ... And even that was lost, in the end. -- -- When the water came to rest, the image was gone.

For seconds more, she watched and waited for its return. ... For any glimpse of that which had been taking on its own life in her head.

Somehow, someway, it had been speaking to her. And someday, hopefully, maybe the memories would ease enough ... just to the point that she could hear it ... hear 'him' ... and take it as a measure of comfort.

Soon, the voice of her co-worker's husband was heard again, muffled by the mask. A sound that just made Evey's entire body cringe. ... ... It threatened to shatter even that last vestige of the illusion, still struggling for existence in her head.

Evey looked up, to find the imposter having moved completely around the fountain. Farther than she would have expected, in so little time. But he obviously had not been enjoying his previous company, and had apparently moved on for new conversation.

... ... She could take no more.

Somehow, that image in the water ... it had been closer to 'her' V, than she'd ever expected to find on this night ... and she wanted to save it. What was left of it.

There were enough V's out tonight. And there would be more, in just four evenings. ... ... Maybe this was supposed to have 'prepared' her ... she didn't know. But the reflection still shimmering in her mind ... somehow, that was the one she wanted to keep.

One more glance back into the water ... the empty, empty water ... and she rose ... on her way home for the night.

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There were, of course, other festivities going on in the park. Other gatherings. Other parties and reunions. Other citizens that the governmental group was supposed to be socializing with.

And Evey did ... fulfilling her obligation. Or at least, she did so as well as she could, given the sorrow that enveloped her.

At another fountain, a group of University students were huddled, discovering Halloween for the first time in their lives. ... ... An enthusiasm that was almost catching.

A witch was there. As was Queen Victoria. Even Snow White, complete with an entourage of admiring young men. -- -- Sleepy, Grumpy, and Doc. They saw Ms. Hammond as she left, and waved politely to her. She was, after all, quite a hero of the revolution.

Some words were exchanged -- the kids inviting Evey join them. They were working their way through a book ... 'Tricks, Treats, and Traditions of Halloween' ... making the absolute most of this first revival of the holiday.

... ... And you know, Evey did consider it.

It probably would have been good for her. -- -- To revisit and relearn some of the more playful memories of her childhood. ... Back when there were more whimsical things to believe in, than 'ideas' and 'justice'.

... ... She did consider it. But in the end, declined the invitation. The image from the fountain was still in her mind, and would be for some time. -- -- Probably for the rest of the night, she suspected. And in a way, she wanted to hold onto that. That was where her heart was, and she left the younger people to their celebration.

... ... "Ok, so how do we do this again?" Snow White asked, as she approached the fountain.

The witch was the one reading the book -- -- casting the spell, it might even appear -- -- as she read the relevant superstition. "On Halloween night, any maiden who takes a lamp to a spring of water, will see the reflection of her future partner in the pool."

"Well how's that gonna work then?" Snow White protested, stepping back. "This is a fountain, not a spring."

Doc shrugged. "City water all comes from the Thames," he pointed out, soon proving himself to be the engineer among the group. "And that all starts with springs out west. It's all spring water, if you think about it."

Snow White bobbed her head, accepting the argument. And as for the lamps ... well ... London had provided them too, one of them buzzing on generator only some yards distant. ... "Alright. Here it goes then."

Tentatively she leaned her knees against the concrete edge, her head drifting forward in anticipation. The water before her shimmered, waiting to catch an image ... ... one she might even be able to touch, if she would reach out her hand.

Behind her, the three dwarves jostled. ... ... Each trying to find the right position. Each trying to cast a reflection in a fountain.

There seemed to be a lot of that going on around Hyde Park that night. Whether people knew it or not. -- -- Whether even the participants knew it or not.

... ... Halloween, was back.

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**Footnotes:** Yes, that is, supposedly, a genuine superstition.

This was, in my opinion, difficult for V and Evey, difficult for me in writing, and difficult to read. Therefore, Kilinka wishes to lift everyone's spirits with a glimpse of what should, and will, be.

**Author's Note:** This is one story of many (over 100) that are written in a timeline format. Not all of these stories have been posted on this site yet (some of them -- rated for adults only -- will never be posted to this site), **but all of my stories -- including those not posted here yet -- have been posted on my aol website.** Just click on my username for more information on how to get to my homepage, or do a search on PEAhopeless V for Vendetta Fan Fiction on the internet.

**This story has accompanying artwork.** To view them, visit my aol homepage and click on, "A Reflection in a Fountain".


End file.
